Memories
by Bimefl
Summary: Just another bathroom scene redo. Yes it is Jackson x Lisa. Sorta. Rating is pretty much just to be safe. One shot.


**Summery: **Yes, look, another silly Jackson/Lisa bathroom scene redo! Isn't it great. I won't deny it, this isn't all that original of an idea, you know what if blah blah blah happened in the bathroom, but I couldn't help it, I needed to write this before it burned a hole in my mind.

**A.N. ** Eh, yes another Red Eye fic, not too original of an idea either, but here it is all the same. I've actually been working on this one awhile but it kept going wrong and I had to erase parts and rewrite parts because I just didn't like it. And I'm not too sure I like it the way it is now but I'm sick of working on it so I'm just gonna post it. Originally I was going to have Jackson be a bit more, how to say, rough, but I decided against that. Not even sure why. It just didn't flow well for me. This idea has been blossoming ever since I saw the movie. I mean come on, if I was Lisa I would have kissed Jackson. There was just so much anticipation there and then nothing. Honestly. It was probably because he had to go remind her of the rape and everything. And now I'm rambling on and on so, without further ado, I give you one of the least original, least entertaining Red Eye fan fics.

**Disclaimer: **Sadly for me I don't own any of the characters, nor do I own anything associated with Red Eye the movie. Well, I do own a movie poster but I kinda borrowed that from the theater. Anyways.

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Lisa drove the lock on the lavatory door shut and collapsed onto the floor in tears. _How the hell did my day get this screwed up? Wasn't my grandma's death enough?_ Those thoughts ran through her head accompanied swiftly by, _How am I going to get out of this? He's going to kill Dad! _With that thought she threw open the toilet lid and threw up her meager dinner and not-so-meager drinks. She ran her fingers through her dark, wavy hair in sheer frustration, with nothing better to do at the moment.

_Come on, Lise,_ she told herself. _Get it together! There's always a way out. Stay objective. Just think of this like a problem at work. _Through the tears her self-cheerleading made her smile. She really had read too many self-help books. Slowly lifting her hands Lisa grabbed the edge of the sink and pulled herself up.

_Aren't you the beauty queen?_ Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror Lisa grimaced. Crying really didn't do much for her face.

Pressing down the cold-water knob on the faucet she cupped her free hand under the flow and swished the water around her mouth to be rid of the taste of vomit. It had almost a calming effect, but not in the amount she needed. Perhaps a morphine drip might have been enough.

Grabbing a paper towel Lisa wiped the rest of the water off of her mouth. She started to wash her hands, the white foam forming all over her hands, and was about to rinse them off when a sudden epiphany struck her.

Lisa glanced up at the mirror seeing not her reflection but her salvation. Furiously she began spreading the foam from her hands onto the mirror, forming patterns and shapes as she did so. When she ran out of soap she got more, wet her hands, and rubbed them quickly together._ Hurry up, Lise!_ She screamed at herself.

Finally satisfied with her handiwork she paused to admire it: _18F HAS BOMB._ It wasn't the truth, per say, but it would get the job done just as efficiently, if not more so. Rinsing off her hands, Lisa dried them and, tossing the towel in the trash, slid open the lock and then the door. The ice blue eyes that greeted her froze her heart.

"I was starting to wonder…" Jackson's words trailed off all too fast as her noticed the writing on the mirror. Fury filled him as he placed a hand over Lisa's mouth and shoved her backwards, locking the door with his other hand. Once finished with that he brought the hand around and placed it at her throat, pushing back against up against the wall behind the toilet.

Lisa struggled to get her footing and breath at the same time. Over and over through her head ran a long suppressed memory and the thought, _It's happening again._ With her hands she grabbed to Jackson's wrists in a vain attempt to move them. After slamming her against the wall behind the toilet Jackson moved and held her pushed up against the wall opposite the sink.

Jackson kept his hands firmly in place, one covering her mouth and the other clutching her throat. Breathing roughly and staring into Lisa's eyes Jackson whispered, "Do you really think that was smart?" His hand was over her mouth so all Lisa could do was hold his wrists still and stare with terror into those deep blue eyes. "Not only would your dad be dead now but so would the person who read this, and anyone else they managed to tell." The tone of Jackson's voice made it clear to Lisa that he meant every word he was saying. "Are you really that selfish? Would you sentence those people to die?" He removed his hand from her mouth to let her speak and moved the one on her throat so he was gripping her chin.

Lisa did not answer immediately but released the wrist he had moved from her and used her free hand to grab the wrist still holding her chin. "You don't have to do this," she whispered, "any of this." There were tears forming in her eyes as she fought to keep her memories at bay and her mind focused on the here and now.

"You love your dad," Jackson stated. "Then do him a favor: stop gambling with his life." They stared at each other a minute, both breathing heavily and both trying to bring that breathing under control. Lisa dropped her arms to her sides and the motion brought Jackson's attention down from her face to her chest, where he noticed a dark streak peaking out from beneath her shirt.

Glancing up at Lisa, whose eyes were now steeled with determination, he took his free hand and with his thumb moved aside the fabric to reveal a scar several inches in length above her right breast. She made no move to stop him but her breath caught in her throat, telling Jackson something wasn't right.

"Did someone do this to you?" he asked softly, almost gently. Out of the blue he was filled with compassion as his own suppressed memories came dangerously close to the surface. A girl, so sweet, too innocent. She had told no one else about what happened that night, afraid of what they might do, but she had told Jackson, and that was enough.

Once more he glanced up into Lisa's eyes and caught a hint of something just beneath the surface. _It all makes sense now,_ he thought. Lisa of course did not answer but tried to look away from Jackson who only held her chin tighter in response. "So this is why you're the loner," he whispered, face moving in towards hers. Lisa even looked like that girl so long ago, dark hair, gripping eyes. He had been there to take care of her, to make sure that for once a crime he knew of did not go unpunished.

Lisa's attempt to look away brought his hand away from her shirt and up to her face, resting on her cheek. "No," Lisa whimpered. A tear spilled down from her eyes and Jackson absently brushed it away.

"They scarred you deeper than this," he commented lightly, hands falling to her hips.

"Stop," Lisa cried quietly. Her hands went to brush his away but he held onto her. _NO!_ The thought was stuck on repeat in her mind as she fought weakly to free herself.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he told her, whispering in her ear. She was so warm, so fragile, and so vulnerable. He could feel her breath on his face, so tempting to him. A vision struck him, bringing him to a place buried deep in his mind. A kiss, the saving grace it had been to a scarred girl that night. Much more of this and Jackson would lose his control.

Lisa's tears poured silently down her cheeks and she shoved with all her strength to move Jackson backwards. When it didn't work she let out a weak sob and started shaking her head. "Don't you see, Lise," he grinned manically. "You don't thrive on the day to day. You live for the problems. You need to get away, take a break." His voice was condescending, like Lisa was a child who needed to be led by the hand.

Lisa stared at Jackson and beat against him with her fists but nothing she did fazed him. Lisa began to squirm but Jackson grabbed her wrists, shoved his body against hers to keep her still, and silenced her the only way he could think of: by pressing his lips against hers. She opened her mouth to scream but he compensated, deepening their kiss. At first she fought him, tossing her head violently from side to side but gradually she felt herself give into the caring way his tongue brushed hers and the gentle pressure of his body. No coherent thought found its way into either of their heads as this kiss stretched on far longer than it should have. He was lost in her tenderness, her innocence. It was something he would always long for yet never have. She was lost in his intensity, the passion with which he truly lived life.

Jackson finally pulled back after nearly a minute of kissing Lisa. They were both breathing hard. Lisa closed her eyes, not saying a word, thinking, _Why should I want more?_

He looked into her eyes, searching for some reaction, some hint at what she was thinking. _I only wish she would see,_ he regretted. All he wanted was to be pure again, to leave behind the mess he had made of his life, and this was the closest he would get.

"Are you okay, Lise?" Any other time she would have rolled her eyes at his question, the one her father loved to ask. Now, though, she bit back a sob and opened her tear-stained eyes to glare at Jackson.

"Fine," she spat, managing to put up a façade that lasted for one word.

Jackson looked skeptical. " Really? Because you look like you could use some cheering up." He looked her up and down, taking in her vulnerable position. Lisa cringed but said nothing. Feeling sympathy for her he went on nonsensically, "I could do that, you know. Cheer you up." Releasing her wrists his hand went to brush away the tears. "You've had such a hard time, haven't you? Let me make this easy then. The phones are working again." Her eyes lit up with some sense of grief before she blinked it away. "Just make the call."

"If I do this, do you swear you will call off the man at my dad's?" Lisa's voice was thick with tears as she asked this. Jackson's heart nearly broke for this sweet girl.

"Yes," he said, turning to clean the mess on the mirror. "You know," Jackson went on, trying vainly to dispel the thoughts of longing he had, while wetting paper towels and smearing the words Lisa had written, "this really is nothing personal."

Lisa almost laughed but was too busy trying to stay standing by leaning against the wall. _So he kisses me and it's nothing personal. _Another voice in her head whispered, _Yes and you kissed him back._

"We all have a job to do and this week you were mine so," he threw the final paper towel into the garbage and put his hand against her cheek, her smooth skin on his hand, "why don't you just play along." Her teary green eyes met his and she nodded weakly. Opening the door Jackson held it open for Lisa and started to follow her back to their seats when he heard the voice of one of the flight attendants.

"Excuse me," she called out rather authoritative. "This isn't a motel." Her tone made it clear to Jackson what they assumed and all he could do was smile his winning smile and return to his seat.


End file.
